


Fading Memories

by GeekyHipsterGlasses33



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Heavy Angst, Imaginary Friends, Imaginary friend AU, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, So much angst, You've been warned, first fic, haizaki never left the generation of miracles, may have a sad ending i'm not sure, you will probably cry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:52:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5980624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekyHipsterGlasses33/pseuds/GeekyHipsterGlasses33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroko had an imaginary friend named Kise but he faded away when he grew up and started dating. Now Kuroko's in high school and his misdirection and lack of presence seem to be working a little too well. People are starting to forget he even exists! The only way to find out what's happening is to track down Kise, his old and faded away imaginary friend, before his friends really forget about him. The only problem is that Kise didn't fade away on good terms. Will he even help him?<br/>And . . . he's real right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue-Goodbye, Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! Thank you for taking the time to click on my fic. This is my first time writing fanfiction so please keep that in mind as you read and tell me what you think. I'd love to hear about you thoughts.  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke characters. I just made up the plot for the story.

He was fading.

The bitter truth of this statement hits Kise like a brick to the face. His eyes widen and his fists clench in blazing fury and trembling sadness as the truth truly hit him. He was actually fading. It hurt. The truth hurt. It was bitter and terrifying and sad and painful, so life ending painful, that his legs couldn’t help but give out and collapse onto the floor in a heap of patheticness.

He gazes at himself in the mirror, has trouble fighting tears. He can't stop staring at the _thing_ he saw, a thing because he was no longer someone. He was becoming nothing. All because of Aomine Daiki. _He_ did this to him. Aomine did it all, the fading, the flickering, the blurriness, the rapid change from full of life and colorful to dull and lifeless, and the _pain_ , the pain of knowing you’ll be forgotten, left behind.

Kise feels it, a deep ache in his chest, like something is missing, and the longing to play. And that’s when he knows, knows that Kuroko is playing basketball with _him_ , Aomine, and not him, Kise the person who was created for this sole purpose. Kuroko created him when he was lonely. He had such a low presence that one second he was there and the next he was just _gone_ like a ghost. The saying went: Out of sight, out of mind and that was Kuroko in a nutshell. Someone who came and went like the wind, always there but also never there.

So Kise was born. An imaginary friend just for Kuroko. Someone who would always be able to see him and play with him and never ever forget because forgetting was the equivalent of death. So he never forgot. They had fun and even though it wasn’t _real_ it was real to Kuroko and that’s all that mattered. They ate popsicles, pretended it melted and dripped on the ground. They played basketball, pretended they were pros and the whole world was watching them, the two invisible players who no one could see but knew were there.

But then one day teenagers came onto the court. They thought it was empty and started to play, loudly, rudely, roughly. Kuroko was pushed and shoved, bruises showing up like bug bites on his skin but everyone thought it was just a friend they had shoved and continued on. Kise saw Kuroko was terrified, little ten year old Kuroko stuck between the ground and a foot about to unknowingly step on an ant, and he didn’t like that. He puffed up his chest, looked Kuroko in the eye, turned, and reached out to touch one of the kids’ shoulders. He was going to be the hero. Kuroko’s hopeful gaze filled him with courage. He felt alive.

Until his hand went right through the kid’s shoulder.

And that’s when the two invisible players remembered that Kise _wasn’t real_. He was the true ghost while Kuroko was just the wind. It was in that moment that Kise saw the heartbreak, the depression, the loneliness appear again and it made him so mad, so mad that he couldn’t do anything, that he screamed as loud as he could.  
But no one heard him.

He couldn’t even hear himself.

***

A week had passed before Kise saw Kuroko again. But that encounter had been an accident. Kuroko didn’t summon him to play basketball, didn’t want to talk to him, or hang out. He’d simply just walked into his room and saw Kise, fading and flickering on his bed, and had an oh moment. The kind of moment that made you go, ‘oh! I forgot about you but now I remember.’

They lock gazes, and Kise smiles sadly, hand balled in Kuroko’s basketball bed sheets as his form twists and fades and disappears and reappears and stretches and squishes together and _blurs_. It was a constant reminder that he was about to die because even in his last moments of existence Aomine Daiki would not let him go in peace.

“Kise-kun.” Kuroko says and Kise’s form only stops flickering for a second.

“You forgot about me . . . Kurokochii.”

Kuroko tenses, his small frame going stiff with the flood of memories bombarding him from when he was ten. For a second he feels bad, bad that he forgot about his imaginary friend who made him feel untouchable, unforgettable.

And he forgot about him.

“Kise-kun.” Kuroko repeats because he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to do. But thankfully Kise has that part filled in for him.

“What happened?” Kise asks even though he already knew that _Aomine_ happened.

“Middle school,” Kuroko starts then stops, wondering if he should continue. “Middle school,” he tries again when Kise makes no move to say anything. “In middle school I always practiced by myself after practice. I wanted to get better.”

Kise runs his made up scenario in his head. Little Kuroko on the basketball team, an invisible player no one could see, running around the gym and passing balls people think came from someone else, sitting on the bench during games because the coach can’t remember he has an extra player just waiting to be put in, being left behind when his team has away games because no one can remember to _wait for Kuroko_.

“Even though I practiced every single day I didn’t get any better. Then I met Aomine who . . .”

Kise tunes him out. He didn’t want to hear about how _Aomine Daiki_ saved the day! He didn’t want to hear about how Kuroko suddenly got better and realized he no longer needed him. He didn’t want to hear about how Kuroko forgot about him because playing against _Aomine Daiki_ was just _amazing_.

“Stop,” Kise says and it sounds rough and mean and foreign coming from his mouth. He likes how _pissed_ he sounds. “Stop. I don’t care. Oh god _stop_.” And Kuroko stops, clamping his mouth shut as small shivers of fear run up and down his spine. He’s never heard Kise sound like this before.

“Kise-ku . . .”

“Just stop, Kuroko. OK? Just stop. I don’t care anymore. Just forget about me already.” Kise is trembling with rage and hurt but mostly rage at the moment. He just wants to disappear already. He didn’t care anymore, he just wanted his suffering to stop. Aomine won.

Kuroko is silent, staring at Kise with big, round eyes filled to the brim with emotion. His hands are hanging limply at his side and he opens and closes his mouth like the words are just about to come out but they change their minds. “Ok. If that will make Kise-kun happy.”

A cellphone is whipped out. Kuroko texts the generation of miracles something as tears silently fall down his cheeks and drip onto his phone and fingers. Kise feels bad for acting so selfishly but he just couldn’t _take_ it anymore.

Kuroko puts his phone to his ear, tears still falling. He tries to make eye contact with Kise but Kise looks away because it’s too painful, too raw, too grown up. If he makes eye contact with Kuroko he might cave and beg to not let him fade, but he can’t do that, won’t do that, because at some point Kuroko needs to grow up and move on. Kise was created to make him feel unforgettable and he did, mission complete. Time to go.

A voice sounds from the phone and rage fills Kise from the bottom of his toes to his ears because _how dare_ Kuroko call Aomine in this tender, sad goodbye forever, but the rage goes as quickly as it comes. He wants to charge over there and smack the phone away but he doesn’t. He doesn’t do anything because he’s too frozen in shock at what he just heard. His fading and flickering freeze and Kise wants Kuroko to look at him but Kuroko refuses to do so and he wants to scream and cry, because _no_. It’s too early for this, Kuroko can’t grow up yet.

Kuroko turns around, tears no longer rolling down his face, eyes oddly blank. He’s looking at Kise and not looking at Kise, whose heart clenches at the sight and then breaks, shattering in a million dangerous, beautiful shards that blow around his chest in a maddening fury.

Then Kuroko whispers, voice hoarse, “I’d love to go out with you, Aomine-kun.”

Kise drops to the ground.

And he finally disappears.


	2. Chapter 1-Out of Sight, Out of Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroko meets with the generation of miracles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to update. My life has been hectic. My parents got the entire house re-floored and I think my laptop was dropped when the guys were moving stuff around because it's been acting crazy (certain keys work and don't work at random times). School is shit (math teachers are asses) and homework is crazy. I thought I would be able to update this weekly but I don't think that will happen. I'm sorry, hopefully you'll be able to stand the waits.  
> Sorry it's so short.

**Chapter 1**

**Out of Sight, Out of Mind**

Kuroko was always slightly invisible.

This fact couldn’t be more obvious than right now. He was sitting around a table with his former Teiko teammates (they were called there by Akashi for some reason) and the waitress has forgotten that Kuroko was there. She’s sat several people at his table and then had to move them when she remembered he was there. It got worse once Midorima showed up. Kuroko had arrived first but the second Midorima showed up he blinked out of her radar like a blown out light bulb. Aomine and Murasakibara showed up soon after. She kept asking the group of they were still waiting for the last person to arrive. When they’d, finally, convinced her that Kuroko had always been there (after she almost died of fright) and got her to take their orders, she forgot to take his order.

“She’s just a shitty waitress. Don’t let it get to you, Tetsu.” Aomine had told him as Midorima tried to flag down the shitty waitress again.

Kuroko shrugs because this is his life and if he hasn’t accepted that already he wouldn’t be here. Aomine sips his drink and stares out the window. Kuroko tries not to stare, he really does, but Aomine was just so beautiful to him, even though he broke his heart, he couldn’t help but stare. Aomine was . . . rough. He had been all basketball and nothing else, all bad results and no work, just a gleaming cracked trophy on a shelf. Kuroko can’t remember how or why they started dating but that year and half was magical. He missed their walks home together, eating ice cream together, playing basketball together. Middle school had been a wonderful time until basketball got in the way.

Basketball ruined everything. It’s a wonder he still plays. It swopped in, destroying all the generation of miracles except Kuroko, then left them with inflated egos and depression. He’d been left in the dust, he’d chosen a light that grew bright so fast it no longer needed a shadow. Aomine and the rest of the miracles tried to shine so bright they blinked out, and broke their basketballs. (Maybe this is why Kuroko still plays. Basketball broke his friends so maybe it could fix them.)

Midorima eventually gets the waitress to come back and take his order, embarrassed that she forgot about a costumer.

“Where is Akashi?” Midorima grumbles as the waitress walks away. “I could be doing other things that are more productive to my time.”

Aomine shrugs, finishing his drink and ordering another. “Who cares, it’s Akashi. Maybe he’s trying to be fashionably late.”

Nobody comments. Murasakibara shoves more pocky into his mouth, Midorima fiddles with his lucky item of the day (a duck key chain), and Kuroko quietly sips his water because the place doesn’t serve vanilla milkshakes. The waitress comes back with their food, places steaming hot plates on their table, forgets about Kuroko once again, and then leaves.

“She’s a really shitty waitress.” Aomine mutters around a mouthful of food. Kuroko blushes, swiping away sweet moans and perverted sweat.

“Agreed.” Midorima says.

“Mido-chin, pass the salt.”

They eat in silence for a bit, waiting for Akashi to show up.

“Good you’re all here.”

They all look up to see Haizaki standing at the table.

“Haizaki, you’re lucky Akashi hasn’t shown up yet. . .” Midorima starts but stops when he sees Haizaki smirk.

“Akashi ain’t showing up. I didn’t invite him.”

Kuroko is confused because, if he can remember correctly, the text to meet up at this restaurant clearly came from Akashi.

“What?” Aomine says stupidly into the stunned silence.

Haizaki rolls his eyes with a cocky snort before sliding a chair into the aisle and sitting. “I sent the text using his phone. None of you guys would show up if I sent it from my own.”

“Impossible,” Midorima shakes his head, tapped fingers gracefully pushing his glasses up. “There is no way you got a hold of Akashi’s phone without him knowing.”

Haizaki shrugs with a lazy smirk. “There are ways. He’s not God.”

“Might as well be.” Aomine yawns and stands up. “This was a waste of my time, I’m leaving.”

“You dine and dash? How delinquent of you.”

Aomine scowls sitting back down. “I’m nothing like you.”

“We’ve got more in common than you think.”

“Get to the point, Haizaki.” Midorima cut in. “What’s the purpose of this meeting?”

Haizaki leans back in his chair, arms crossed, childish delinquency suddenly gone. Kuroko curiously looks up from his food, eyeing Haizaki’s familiar crossed legs.

“I think we should start doing monthly hangouts.”

Kuroko stares at him. “Why?”

Haizaki doesn’t shrink like he normally would under all their stares. He straightens up and says, “Because we’re not going to last long like this.”

“My basketball is just fine without these lunatics.” Aomine grunts.

“Not talking about basketball.”

Midorima places money in the middle of the table and stands up. “This is hardly a conversation worth dragging us all here. If you have nothing important to say, I’m leaving.” They glare at each other, Haizaki and Midorima waging an internal battle. Midorima huffs, grabs his lucky item and leaves.

Aomine stands up too. “If he can leave I am too.”

Murasakibara is the next to leave, tossing money onto the table.

Kuroko stands up and leaves without placing money on the table. He weaves his way through the tables like a fading wind. He turns and looks at Haizaki right before he exits. Haizaki shakes his head in a disappointed manner. Kuroko leaves the restaurant and returns home with unsettling dread in his stomach.

***

He gets a text right before he goes to sleep.

            **Haizaki Shougo**

_Keep doing shit like that and you’ll disappear without me having to do anything._

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a comment and lots of kudos if you liked it! Thanks.


End file.
